Capturing Boredom

boredom

1.  the state of being bored;

tedium; ennui.

origin 1850-55  bore + dom

~synonyms

dullness, doldrums, weariness

~antonyms

excitement, diversion, amusement

Recently, a good

friend of mine

declared over coffee,

I either have to

get a part-time job

or a puppy.

Her three children

are all tweens or

teens and as a stay

at home mom she's

found herself staring

down some long days.

She's bored.

Although I totally

sympathize with

how she must feel,

I can not relate.

At all.

In fact, the more

that I thought about

her words, the more

I began to worry a

bit about myself,

because I am never,

ever bored.

Ever.

Honestly, I'm not

sure I ever have been,
even when employed
at some pretty
mind-numbing jobs.

I'm writing this at

an assisted living

home, as the sweet
strains of my daughter's
harp entertains guests
in the dining room.

You can learn a lot as

an observer, here.

The residents do not

rush through their 

meals.  They savor

them, lingering over

coffee, heads bobbing

in conversation.

Many drift by the harp and

speak in low tones to my

daughter, thanking her

for sharing her music or

admiring her instrument.

When they finally do

get up to leave, even

 those with walkers

and canes stride briskly 

past us with purpose.

We have places to be!

they seem to say.

Definitely not bored.

When we pull into the

 drive of the Homes each 

week, there is often someone

sitting in the sunshine,

eyes closed and face

upturned toward the light.

Do I think they are bored?

No.

That sort of time ~ time 

to enjoy the rustle of leaves

from the lake winds or the

feeling of warm sunshine

on rosy cheeks, seems to me

like one of the sweetest 

diversions

that there could be.

Every day I find myself

thinking, I need to Google

that! in response to a question,

thought or idea that I want

to pursue when my schedule

allows it.

There are books to be read,

movies and shows to devour,

recipes to be tried, photos

to be taken and trails to be

cycled, loved ones to be cuddled,

good friends to be chatted up,

 and the ever changing show

that Mother Nature provides

to be admired.

There is so much to know

about life, living and this

beautiful planet that we call

home, that I believe I will

still be hungering for more

when it's time to depart this
 lovely Earth.

Am I weird that way?

Perhaps.  

But bored?  No way.

How about you?  Are you

chasing boredom, or do
you wish for more hours
in each and every day?

Oh, and

my friend?

She got the puppy.

xo

Suzanne

The Fun House

It's been several

years since Legos

graced the

surfaces of our

house ~

or Webkins, 

Neopets, Polly

Pockets, Playmobile

figurines, Beanie

Babies or Bionicles.

Our trampoline

came down last

spring and the playset

was carted off by

a new owner the

following autumn.

We don't have a

pool, a slip-n-slide or
even a hoola-hoop.

Despite unspoken

worries that my

God-daughter would

be bored at our 

teenage-stage home,

she cried on the 

day she and her 

mom were leaving.

Your house is

so much fun! she'd

exclaimed several

times over our long

weekend together.

Fun?  Really?

Which made me

stop and consider....

Instead of seeing

all those things that

our house doesn't

have, Isabella was

entranced with all

those things that it

does have.

A dog.  {Gracie

loved having an

11-year old little

girl in the house,

again!}

Front loading washer

and dryer.  {She liked
seeing the spin cycle.}

Just-baked banana

muffins for breakfast.

Crazy man-boy sized

12 shoes piled up

on the mudroom floor.

{Cool!}

Flowers from our

gardens bursting

from jam jars in 

every room.

A harp in the 

dining room and
a ping pong table
in the basement.

More quiet time.

{She is one of three

siblings, ages 9-11.}

Having this wee soul

as a visitor helped me

to remember that old

adage that beauty is in

the eyes of the beholder.

Isabella also reminded

me that all of us need to

tweak our lenses once

in a while, shifting our

settings back from what

is lacking to what is 

abundant.

Next year she wants to

come visit for a week.

By herself.

Just a few days ago, I

would have fretted 

that she'd be bored, but

now, now I know 

so

much

better.

Happy July, my friends.


It's going fast.

xo

Suzanne

Being There

I could have just

as easily skipped our

regular McDonald's

date on that day ten

years ago. 

But he so looked

forward to it.

So, in we went, my

son anticipating his

chicken nuggets and

the giant play land and

me a few still moments

with him sitting across 

the table, cheerful grin

 and eyes the color

of milk chocolate, as

he tucked into his

Happy Meal.

We ran into a friend

having lunch with 

another friend of hers

and were introduced.

That friend had a little

boy the same age as

mine and shyly at first,

and then more boldly,

they tackled the play

land together and became

fast pals.

2002

Later, they would tackle

pre-school, elementary

and the first year of

middle school together,

as well.

Last summer when this

best buddy and his family

moved to Chicago, my

son had to navigate his

first real loss of someone

who had always just

been there.

As those of us more 

seasoned know, there is

no easy way to cure the 

sadness that occurs when 

a person who is close to 

you is suddenly far, far 

away.

And boys aren't always

the best at keeping in 

touch.

But these two stayed

connected in a way that

previous generations have

not been able to,

through e-mail, texts and

on-line X-box games.

{It probably helped that

during the years the boys

were forming a solid

friendship, so were their

moms.}

So it was with happy

anticipation that my son

and I visited our Chicago

friends last weekend, to

see them in their new

home, to catch up, to

laugh and to enjoy having

them just be there, like

the old days.

As my Gigi used to say,

Nothing good lasts forever.

But I like to think that if

friendships have deep and

solid roots, they do endure,

even if the friends are not

geographically there for

each other any longer.

2012

Perhaps they can even 

grow,

in a new, 
different way.

The tender friendships

one gives up, on parting,

leave their bite on the heart,

but also a curious feeling 

of a treasure somewhere

buried.

~ Antoine de St. Exupery

Do you have a
close friend
who lives
far
away?

xo

Suzanne

Summer Prayers

If I really wanted to pray,

I'd tell you what I'd do.  I'd

go out into a great big field

alone or into a deep, deep

woods, and I'd look up into

the sky ~ up ~ up ~ up into

that lovely blue sky that looks

like there is no end to its 

blueness.  And then I'd just

feel a prayer.

~ L.M. Montgomery,

Anne of Green Gables

If Anne's definition of 

praying is true,

then I have done a lot of

it already, this summer.

When I take Gracie out

first thing in the morning,

head leaned back, eyes

closed, inhaling the 

sweet morning air,

this

is

a 

prayer.

When I hug my teddy bear,

taller-than-I-am son and

smell that summer scent

of sunscreen mixed with

fresh air and sunshine,

I 

am

feeling

a

prayer.

When I am in the garden

and pause to stretch and

admire the puffy white

clouds suspended in a sea

of blue, 

this

is

most definitely

a

prayer.

Summer, especially,

encourages this whole

being sort of prayer,

don't you think?

Each day seems to

deliver a new gift,

whether it's the scent

of honeysuckle on the

breeze, the splash of

a fish jumping in the

lake or the sight of

a mother duck waddling

across the road with

her babies in tow.

It's that first sip of iced

tea on a steamy afternoon,

the laughter of children

at the local beach or pool

and the deep purple of 

clematis blossoms twined 

up the side of a mailbox.

It's also crisp sheets on

hot nights, stars that you

can reach out and nearly 

touch, bird song at dawn, 

biking down a country road 

and ripe, fat peaches.

I think that Anne, such

a wise little soul, was

truly on to something.

Gifts and prayers.

Are you feeling them,

too?

xo

Suzanne